


Take Me to Chuch

by SeaweedWrites



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Ankle Cuffs, Bandanna, Blindfolds, Character Study, Choose Your Own Partner, Hozier, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Not As Scary As It Sounds, Other, Riding Crops, Songfic, TAKE ME TO CHURCH, Teasing, Who Is She With?, Wrist Cuffs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 09:53:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9542525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeaweedWrites/pseuds/SeaweedWrites
Summary: I heard Hozier's “Take Me To Church” on the radio, and it gave me the idea for this. I think that song fits Irene Adler just about perfectly.  So this is a little bit of a character study as well as a song fic.Someone has been VERY bad, and it's up to The Woman to put them back in their place.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have a rather long, involved fic idea that I want to write that involved Sherlock Holmes and Irene Adler. But I have never written Irene before, so I wanted to get a little practice and maybe try a bit of a character study on her, so I can see if I can understand her and write her. 
> 
> At least, that is what I had intended to do, but this came out as something much MUCH different. 
> 
> I heard Hozier's “Take Me To Church” on the radio, and it gave me the idea for this. I think that song fits Irene Adler just about perfectly. So this is a little bit of a character study as well as a song fic. 
> 
> Not set at any specific time, but I would guess somewhere around “A Scandal in Belgravia”.
> 
> Italics are the song lyrics. And the other person is whomever you want them to be. 
> 
> FYI 'grilles' are the wooden planks inside a window pane to break it up into smaller panes. 
> 
> And there's a tiny little easter egg in the last line for those observant enough to get it. 
> 
>  
> 
> Someone has been VERY bad, and it's up to The Woman to put them back in their place.

Hands strained against leather straps. The metal chains clinked harmlessly on the wooden posts that held them tight. The bed creaked in an uneven rhythm, getting the immediate attention of the other person in the room.

“Oh, come now. Be still. You don't want me to punish you, do you?”

A wicked smile, pink tongue across red lips and white teeth. Yes, actually, you do.”

 

_My lover's got humour_  
She's the giggle at a funeral  
Knows everybody's disapproval  
I should've worshiped her sooner

 

A muffled voice, the nodding of a head.

“That's better. Now, let's see what you have to say.”

The bandanna being used as a gag was quickly, forcefully pulled down. “Please, mistress.”

A predatory smile. “That's better.”

The bandanna goes back into place, a riding crop is picked up.

“Now, let's see how bad you've been.”

 

_If the heavens ever did speak_  
She's the last true mouthpiece  
Every Sunday's getting more bleak  
A fresh poison each week  
"We were born sick"  
You heard them say it

 

The crack of a crop, the muffled cries of pain and pleasure mix in a cacophony of sound that bounces around the echoing room, repeating and amplifying the noise.

“You've been bad, haven't you?”

Tears form, falling down a soft, pale cheek.

“Have you learned your lesson?”

 

_'We were born sick'_  
You heard them say it  
My church offers no absolutes  
She tells me "worship in the bedroom"  
The only heaven I'll be sent to  
Is when I'm alone with you  
I was born sick, but I love it  
Command me to be well

 

_Amen, Amen, Amen_

 

Hard strikes turn into gentle, caressing touches. The crop finds those most intimate areas. Soft leather against soft, dark curls.

A stifled cry, another strain against the cuffs, an arching of the back.

“Oh, I think I found your weakness. Haven't I?”

Dark leather replaced by a white glove, tracing lines down supple curves and down to parts below.

 

_Take me to church_  
I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies  
I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife  
Offer me that deathless death  
Good God, let me give you my life

 

Sunlight streams in through windows almost as tall as the room itself. The grilles set a crisscross pattern on the floor and up onto the bed.

But a silk blindfold keeps them from appreciating the light of the afternoon sun.

There is heat.

Plenty of that.

Delicate fingers trace the rectangular pattern of light and shadow over a taut stomach. Goosebumps rise and they shudder.

 

_If I'm a pagan of the good times_  
My lover's the sunlight  
To keep the goddess on my side  
She demands a sacrifice  
Drain the whole sea  
Get something shiny

 

“I see you like that. Well, I better not give you too much of what you want.” The silk glove pulls away. The body tenses, then relaxes.

For a moment, there is no contact, and they wonder if it's over. It seems like forever and no time at all, and they don't want this to end.

They feel cuffs go around around one ankle, then the other. Their legs are splayed wide, chained closely to the bottom two posters of the bed.

A shuddering breath. A smile.

This is far from over.

 

_Something meaty for the main course_  
That's a fine looking high horse  
What you got in the stable?  
We've a lot of starving faithful  
That looks tasty  
That looks plenty  
This is hungry work

 

A tug of the hair, the neck is exposed. Leather against skin, almost light enough that they weren't sure if it was even there to begin with.

Trailing down... down... down... Leaving a trail of goosebumps and pink flesh.

“Now, have you been good?” A purr, more than a voice.

A nod.

“Good enough that you deserve a reward?”

A bit more hesitant of a nod.

“Hmm.. I think I will decide that for myself.”

 

_No masters or kings when the ritual begins_  
_There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin_  
_In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene_  
_Only then I am human_  
_Only then I am clean_

_Amen, Amen, Amen_

 

Something harder now against the skin, pressing against muscles that tense with anticipation.

A back arches and presses upwards. The body is rigid.

“Ah, there, there. Don't be too eager, my pet.”

The item is drawn away. A body sags back onto the bed, shuddering softly.

“All in good time. You will get what you deserve.”

A smile and a nod.

“Let's play this out logically. Now. Shall we begin?”

 

_Take me to church_  
I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies  
I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife  
Offer me that deathless death  
Good God, let me give you my life

 


End file.
